Behold: more pictures of Nicollet Mall in the 70s, gleaned from that page I found a few days ago. And how's this for synchronicity? At the Strib office I spied a review copy of a book on this very subject, with these pictures.




I miss the red buses. I don't know why they changed to white; it's boring, and blends in with the snowbanks. The red buses could be seen coming blocks away, and they lent the city a distinctive appearance.

Two groups of al-fresco lunchers. Bronson and Young Putin:





No one misses those concrete posts. Chains were slung between them, for extra precarious seating.

WEB Alert: a writer is quitting social media, and perhaps expects social media to notice. If not, here's a piece in BuzzFeed that reminds you of someone who makes a big speech in the coffeehouse to amused or indifferent strangers, then heads out the door, tossing his scarf over his shoulder with dramatic flair.

Today is the day I finally leave social media.

I feel I’ve outstayed my welcome. I don’t have anything else to say. The feeling has grown in the weeks leading up to this point; I’ve seen my social media activity plummet in popularity. When you’re online every day, valuing each post’s health as a measure of your own literary career, you begin to lose sight of yourself.

It has worn me down to the point of panic, exhaustion — it’s why I should have left by now. It’s why today is it. I’ve made it to this point; just do it.

If social media has left you exhausted and panicky, there may be other issues to consider. On and on and on, the same stammering prattle, the same insecurities:

I watch as someone I know posts something not only clever but also completely on-point. I feel naked, concerned — anxious. It bothers me. I like it and comment, which is the right thing to do; all the while, I envy it because I don’t have anything better to say. I don’t have anything at all.

A point he is proving at great length. You read on, because there has to be a thesis here somewhere, but when the author describes shuddering in a bathroom stall because he has tweetstipation, you only hope there are friends to help.